


Time Doesn't Heal Everything

by LuckyLadybug



Series: Exit the Fly [4]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 1987)
Genre: Brothers, Drama, Gen, Mutants, Redemption, Season/Series 07, Sibling Rivalry, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8599654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLadybug/pseuds/LuckyLadybug
Summary: 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse in season 7. Baxter reluctantly accepts a job as Channel 6's scientific consultant and quickly runs afoul of someone he hurt in the past. Things only get worse when it gets broadcast on the news that he was the fly who terrorized New York City.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The characters are not mine and the story is! This is the next installment in my Exit the Fly verse, which takes place in late season 7. Basically, Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney is now working for Shredder and Krang. Mr. Blodgett, who features in this story, is from the season 2 episode Curse of the Evil Eye.

It was a quiet, peaceful day in the Turtles' Lair. Leonardo was reading a book. Raphael was watching his favorite comedy show. Donatello was crafting blueprints for his newest idea. Michelangelo was playing with a paddleball. And Splinter was meditating.

They all had adapted to the sounds of each other's activities and were able to tune them out enough to not be bothered. It was only when a new sound was introduced, that of Donatello's Turtle-Comm, that chaos erupted.

"Huh? What?" Michelangelo looked over to see and the paddleball bounced off his head.

Leonardo dropped the book into his lap. "Maybe it's trouble!"

Raphael scowled. "Just when I'm getting some new ideas for my act!"

Splinter shook his head. "Kids."

Donatello quickly opened the Turtle-Comm. "Hi, April. What's going on? Is there trouble?"

"Not that I know of," April replied. "Actually, I'm hoping it's good news. Has Dr. Stockman found a job yet?"

"No, he hasn't," Donatello replied. "There aren't many jobs available for someone with his education and knowledge."

"Isn't that just the irony of it all?" Raphael inserted. "These humans go to schools and universities for years and they can hardly ever get decent jobs when they get out."

"It doesn't help that he was missing for some time," Donatello continued, ignoring Raphael. "It looks like the majority of New York City doesn't realize he was the giant humanoid fly that came around now and then."

"That's probably for the best," April exclaimed.

"I know," Donatello said. "But so he can't really account for where he was. Some people remember the Mouser incident and that he was put in the insane asylum and wonder why he wasn't locked up again."

April winced. "Well, that's not good."

"I think it's really starting to get him down," Donatello said.

"Maybe I have something that will help," April said hopefully. "We have an opening for a scientific consultant here at the station. I know it's probably not the kind of job he wants, but at least he could put his knowledge to use and be making some money while he works on his inventions."

Donatello hesitated. "Gee, I don't know, April. . . . Wouldn't that mean he'd be on TV a lot? Shredder and Krang would probably see him for sure."

"Not necessarily," April said. "A lot of it would be behind the scenes, so unless Shredder and Krang like to read the credits, they probably wouldn't even see his name."

"It sounds better than anything else that's available right now," Raphael piped up as he came to lean on the back of the couch. "We could run it past him in any case and see what he thinks."

"I was hoping you'd say that," April smiled. "I can come with you and explain the details, if he's interested."

"Hey, I'm game," Raphael said.

"Same here," Michelangelo chirped. "Maybe it'll cheer the dude up."

"Okay!" April perked up. "I'll meet you boys back at the apartment house."

Splinter entered the room just as Donatello was closing the Turtle-Comm. "What has happened, my students?" he asked.

"April thinks she's found a job for Baxter, Master Splinter," Leonardo said. "A scientific consultant at Channel 6."

"Hmm." Splinter's expression was impassive. "And what do you think?"

Leonardo and Donatello exchanged a look. "I'm still not sure, Master," Donatello admitted. "I'm worried that a job like that will put him in the spotlight too much and Shredder and Krang will find out he's alive."

"We figured it'd happen sooner or later," Raphael said. "As long as we can cover for Barney and make it look like he didn't lie, didn't we figure it'd be okay?"

"Something like that," Leonardo sighed. "But we might not be able to cover for him."

"Hey, don't forget that April said it was mostly a behind-the-scenes gig," Michelangelo said.

"There is one other thing you should not forget, my pupils," Splinter said, raising a forefinger in emphasis.

"What's that, Master?" Leonardo asked in surprise.

"Ultimately, it is Dr. Stockman's decision." Splinter leaned on his walking stick. "You must allow him the choice, no matter how hesitant you are about it."

"You're right, Sensei." Leonardo got up. "And April's already on her way to talk to him. We'd better get going since we're supposed to meet her there."

"A wise choice," said Splinter as the Turtles hurried out of the Lair.

****

Baxter listened as the Turtles and April explained the details of the scientific consultant position and the pros and cons of taking it. He absently ate a chocolate bar while they spoke.

"You'd probably get to see lots of gnarly new inventions," Michelangelo chirped.

"And you'd help us and ultimately the viewers understand complex scientific processes," April told him.

"The only thing is, you'd be running the risk of Shredder and Krang finding out you're alive," Raphael put in.

Leonardo nodded. "Even if you're not onscreen, there's always the chance that they could see your name in the credits of the shows."

"Truthfully, I'm surprised they haven't found out already," Baxter said. "It's just dumb luck that's kept Krang from seeing me on his transdimensional screen."

"I was kind of wondering about that," said Raphael. "Since he seems to see everything and all."

"Would Channel 6 even hire me?" Baxter wondered.

"With your credentials, I'm sure there wouldn't be any trouble," April tried to assure him. "I wouldn't tell Burne that you were the giant fly that tried to take over the station with your pet computer."

Baxter groaned. "He probably knows my name. Your friend Miss Langinstein remembered and identified me by that."

"That was so long ago, I'm sure Burne's had a lot of other things to think about," April said.

"Yeah, like the time Baxter tried to conquer New York City with his army of flies," Raphael said dryly.

Leonardo slapped his forehead. "Raphael, you're not helping!"

"I'm just telling it like it was," Raphael said. "After all, Baxter gave an interview to Channel 6 at that time. So that makes two times that Burne would have heard his name. Three if he heard it during the disaster with Baxter turning everybody into giant insects."

Baxter cringed. "I barely even remember any of this," he said in a small voice.

"But you're still trying to shake off the effects of it," Raphael replied, pointing to the chocolate bar.

That brought a flinch. "You're right, I am. The sugar craving was too strong today." Baxter set the rest of the bar on the table with its wrapper. "I was an idiot to think that I could ever live a normal life after everything I've done."

"You can't give up now," April protested. "You've come so far from what you were. No one would think anything of your appetite for sweet things."

"Maybe not, but I will always know why it's happening. And if anyone remembers the things I did, they'll probably put the pieces together too. Maybe they'll even wonder if I'm really human. Maybe they'll worry I'll turn back into that . . . that horrible thing." Baxter slumped forward on the table, propping himself up on his elbows as he dug his hands into his hair.

Donatello hesitated before laying a hand on Baxter's shoulder. "But you know you can't, right? The fly is gone. It's probably dead by now. And you're alive and well."

Baxter started and looked to him. "I want to believe that," he said. "But now I'm terrified of those filthy things. I'm afraid that if one of them is around me and some massive power surge happens, I might end up fused with it again."

"That was just a freak accident!" Donatello insisted. "And it only happened because the two of you were in a disintegration chamber that malfunctioned. Your molecules combined instead of falling apart."

"I know that logically," Baxter said. "But it's a lot harder to tell it to the part of me that's still afraid of becoming a monster."

"Honestly? You don't need to merge with a fly for that to happen," Raphael said. "Humans can be pretty monstrous all on their own, every day."

"And I did my share of that too," Baxter said. "I know."

"Well, you only did that after you'd been unfairly thrown in the insane asylum and cracked up," April said. "And I'm sorry that my testimony in court helped send you there."

"Nevermind that now," Baxter sighed. "I must have sounded like a raving lunatic with my stories about a mysterious masked man and giant turtles. Anyway . . ." He started to get up from the table. "I don't think I'll have any luck getting hired, but I'm willing to give this consulting idea a try. It sounds better than anything else that's available in town."

April brightened. "Then let's go!" she encouraged. "I'm sure I can convince Mr. Thompson to give you a chance, even if he does remember your name."

"If anyone can, it's you," Raphael said.

Baxter grabbed the rest of the candy bar on his way out.

****

Burne Thompson frowned as he studied Baxter's resume and his application. "So you're a native New Yorker, eh?" he said at last.

"That's right," Baxter said nervously.

"Didn't I hear something about you disappearing some time back?" Burne looked up. "Where'd you go?"

Baxter inwardly groaned. He had reached this point during several interviews. His answers never impressed his prospective employers. "I was ill," he said, not untruthfully. "I had to go away to try to recover."

Burne dropped the papers like hot rocks. "Nothing catching, was it?!"

"Oh no," Baxter said quickly. "No. . . . No one could have caught that. And I'm better now." _Well, almost,_ he added to himself, thoughts of the chocolate bar dancing through his mind.

"Hmm." Burne leaned forward, squinting at him. "Have we ever met before? Your voice sounds kind of familiar. Maybe if it was higher and squeakier . . ."

Baxter looked trapped. April quickly jumped in. "It's just a coincidence," she said. "I promise, Mr. Thompson, you've never met this man before."

Now Baxter started, looking to April with shocked eyes. But before he could say anything, Burne spoke.

"Alright, April. On your assurance, and his credentials, we'll try him out for a while. But . . ." Burne glowered warningly at Baxter. "If there's any funny business, out you go. You understand me?"

"Y-Yes, Sir," Baxter stammered. "Thank you, Mr. Thompson."

"I still don't know what to think of you," Burne growled. "Your voice really does sound familiar." He leaned back in the chair. "Go find something to consult on. Go, go, go."

"He'll find something." April shepherded Baxter to the door and into the hall. When they were far enough away, Baxter slapped his forehead.

"I sounded ridiculous in there," he berated. "That's how I spoke to Shredder most days."

"Burne can be really intimidating," April said soothingly. "But don't worry, he's really a pussycat when you get to know him."

"But if he remembers the truth . . . !" Baxter looked worried. "You actually lied to him, Miss O'Neil!"

"It wasn't a lie," April insisted. "He really hasn't met you before. He only met a poor crazy creature that was half-human, half-fly."

"I don't think he'd think of it like that," Baxter said, humbled, "but thank you."

They both started when a new voice joined the conversation. "Hello, Miss April."

April looked over and smiled. "Why, hello, Mr. -"

But he and Baxter noticed each other before she could finish. _"YOU!"_ they cried, pointing at each other in shock.

April stepped back, blinking in surprise. "Am I missing something?! You two have met?"

"He's the guy who stole my helmet!" the newcomer cried. "The one that could turn things into other things!"

"Actually, we both stole it from Shredder," Baxter said in chagrin, "but yes, I took it from this man also."

"And you left me tied up in my own apartment!"

"Mr. Blodgett! Dr. Stockman!" April exclaimed.

"I had no idea this man worked here," Baxter said. "Maybe I'm not recognized for what I did later, but your Mr. Blodgett remembers some of my worst antics before that."

"Why is he here?" Blodgett frowned.

"He works here too," April said firmly. "He's our scientific consultant. Actually, I was looking for you, Mr. Blodgett. You'll need to drive him to the first story he'll be consulting on."

"What?" Baxter looked sick. "I'll be riding with him?"

"I'm driving him?!" Blodgett wailed. "It wasn't just me he acted out with, you know. At least, I don't think so. There was the time he was at that local pizza event and these two little kids got pizzas with creatures in them right after that! I've always suspected he was responsible for that!"

Now Baxter went positively pale. "Two children received those pizzas?"

"Then you admit it!" Blodgett cried.

"I was trying to get the Turtles," Baxter said quietly. "I shouldn't have done that either, but I certainly wasn't trying to harm innocent children." Louder he demanded, "Were they hurt?"

"No. They were fine, thanks to the Turtles," Blodgett snapped. "What did you have against them, anyway?!"

"It's a long story and it's all over now," Baxter said wearily. "I'm not against the Turtles anymore, if that helps any."

"That's right, Mr. Blodgett," April finally got a word in. "Look, you know how much I care about the Turtles. Would I bring a known enemy of the Turtles here to get a job?"

"Well . . ." Blodgett hesitated. "I don't think so, Miss April. Not unless Mr. Burne wanted you to. . . ."

"And he didn't!" April pounced. "Dr. Stockman is now a friend of the Turtles' and mine. When I heard about our open scientific consultant position, I thought he'd be perfect."

Blodgett was still regarding Baxter with suspicion. "Where have you been since then anyway? I thought you'd come around to cause more trouble, but you just kind of disappeared."

"I really don't want to get into that, either," Baxter sighed. "If I need to be somewhere, can't we just leave now?"

"You need to," April said. "You're meeting with our program director, Derrick Matthews, to discuss how to keep this season's shows scientifically accurate."

"That doesn't sound bad at all," Baxter said. "But why can't he come here?"

"He wants to talk about it over lunch," April said. "He knows about our open position and keeps saying for us to send someone to talk to him over lunch when we fill it. He says he thinks better while he's eating. Mr. Blodgett?"

Blodgett gave a heavy sigh. "Oh, alright. I'll take him." He glared at Baxter. "But I am still going to be watching you, Dr. Whoever You Are."

Baxter cringed. "This only serves to prove that time doesn't heal everything," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," April apologized. "I didn't realize. . . ."

"No, it's alright." Baxter waved a hand at her. "I knew I'd have to face all of my demons sometime. Another one has just come home to roost." With that, he followed Blodgett towards the elevators.

April looked after them. "I hope this wasn't a bad idea," she said to herself.

Her Turtle-Comm went off in the next moment and she pulled it out in surprise. "Hi, Leonardo," she greeted.

"Hey, April." Leonardo looked both hopeful and apprehensive. "Were you able to help Baxter?"

"I hope so," April frowned. "I convinced Burne to give him a chance, but then we ran into somebody he met during the time he was working for Shredder."

"Uh oh," Leonardo winced. "Who?"

"Our driver, Mr. Blodgett," April sighed. "I wasn't even thinking about the time they'd met and that it would no doubt happen again and not go over well."

"And you can't really blame the geek either," Raphael said in the background. "Nuts or not, Baxter was a jerk to the guy."

"Well, I just hope I didn't do the wrong thing," April said. "Dr. Stockman isn't that person anymore, and he deserves to be able to get a decent job that will work for him."

"I'm sure he'll be okay," Leonardo said. "Mr. Blodgett's not an unreasonable guy. He'll see that Baxter is different and then he'll feel better about things."

"I guess so," April said slowly. "But we both know that sometimes it's hard for some good people to forgive. And we don't know how Dr. Stockman will handle this situation. It's the first time he's really been faced with it, aside from Raphael."

"Hey, if he can handle me, Blodgett's a breeze," Raphael said.

"That's probably true," April relented. "Okay, guys. I'll see you later."

Quickly she hung up and headed to her office. She had work of her own to get to.

****

Baxter folded his arms and glared ahead on the drive to the restaurant. It had been a very awkward ride from the start, and as they went along with the obvious tension in the air, it just kept getting worse. He almost wondered if he would prefer conversation to the heavy silence.

He soon had the chance to find out. "Does Mr. Thompson know what you did?" Blodgett said at last.

"No," Baxter admitted.

"He probably wouldn't want you there if he did."

"I'm sure you're right," said Baxter. "But you'll get Miss O'Neil in trouble if you tell him. You don't want that, do you?"

"Of course not," Blodgett exclaimed. "I won't tell him anything. I just wonder why she wants to help you so much."

"I wonder that myself," Baxter muttered.

"And why would you want to hurt the Turtles?!" Blodgett went on. "They never did anything to you!"

Baxter flinched. "Don't assume you know everything," he snapped.

"I know they're good guys," Blodgett insisted. "They'd never do anything to deliberately hurt anyone unless it was a bad guy."

"Or unless they thought it was a bad guy," Baxter countered.

"Hey, it's not like they're like that creepy Casey Jones guy or something," Blodgett said defensively. "They don't just go after people without knowing the full story!"

"Maybe not now," said Baxter, "but everyone has to start sometime. And when they were just starting out, they did exactly that with me."

"Well . . . that's no reason to go after them," Blodgett retorted.

"You're right," Baxter answered. "There was more to it, but I don't want to get into that." Somehow he had the feeling that if he were to say he had lost his mind because the downward spiral of that night had ruined his reputation and his life, it would sound more like an excuse than anything else. He had said he didn't want to use that as an excuse, and he still didn't.

". . . Here's the restaurant." Blodgett pulled up in front of a fancy eatery. "I'm supposed to wait for you while you go in, so I'll be here when you're done."

"Alright." Baxter got out of the van, then paused. "Thank you."

Blodgett looked somewhat surprised. "I'm just doing my job," he half-mumbled.

Baxter went through the revolving door and into the lobby. He had been so caught up in his frustrations that he hadn't thought about it, but now he suddenly realized he was probably underdressed for this establishment. But it was too late to make any changes; the maitre d' had already noticed him. "May I help you, Sir?" he asked uneasily.

"Yes," Baxter said. "I'm here to meet with Derrick Matthews?"

"Ah, yes." The maitre d' led him into the restaurant. "Mr. Matthews has a standing reservation for that table there." He indicated one in the far corner by a window.

Baxter thanked him and started in that direction. After several tables, an unfamiliar Brooklyn voice called out to him. "Hey! Dr. Stockman!"

Baxter jumped a mile and spun around in surprise. Someone who looked like a mobster was at a nearby table and waving to him to come over. The two men he was dining with, who were most likely his hatchet men, glowered at him with warning looks of what to expect if he didn't come.

By now it felt like every eye in the establishment was on him. But, swallowing his mortification, Baxter began to head in that direction. "Excuse me, but you must have the wrong person," he said warily. "I don't know you. I'm here to meet with that man over there."

"Sure you know me," the mobster said gruffly. "I know you must be sore about that little stretch in the slammer, but we can get past that, can't we?"

And then it clicked. "You're Pinky McFingers," Baxter exclaimed. "You hired my brother Barney."

"That's right! . . . Wait, your brother?" McFingers peered at him. "You're not Barney?!"

"Barney has red hair," Baxter said impatiently.

"That's true, Boss," one of the thugs spoke up. "This guy's hair is brown."

"I know that! But Barney said his brother turned into a big fly," McFingers said.

Now Baxter wanted to crawl under a table. The crook was speaking loudly enough that everyone in hearing range had turned to look, including Derrick Matthews. He was, in fact, staring with goggle-eyed interest.

In that moment, Baxter had a choice. He could confirm Barney's words and make a hasty retreat . . . or he could make Barney look like a fool and try to save face with Mr. Matthews. Barney had certainly put him down in public enough times that the latter was tempting. He was trying to reintegrate into polite society. How could he do that if everyone knew he was the fly that had terrorized New York City more than once? On the other hand, could he really be one of the "good guys" if he shamed his brother, especially since in that case, Barney had told the truth?

"Barney was right," he said at last. "But as you can see, I'm not a fly any more. Now if you will excuse me." He spun around, retracing his steps. Mr. Matthews didn't know that Baxter was here to see him. It was seriously tempting to simply duck out a side exit and forget about him and Mr. Blodgett and all thoughts of working as a scientific consultant. But instead he found himself turning to make his way to Mr. Matthews' table.

"Hello," Matthews said in surprise as he approached.

"Good afternoon," Baxter said, trying to collect his composure and his manners. It was too late to turn back now. He would just have to hope for the best. "Mr. Matthews, my name is Baxter Stockman. I have been hired as the scientific consultant for Channel 6. I've come to talk with you about this season's television series."

"Oh! Well, by all means, sit down!" Matthews gestured at the other side of the table. "I wondered when they were ever going to get around to hiring someone. Baxter Stockman, you say? I think I remember you from some time back, before all this nonsense with that Shredder character started happening."

"Yes," Baxter said awkwardly, sliding into the seat directly across from Matthews. "I was around then."

"Then there was some scandal and you disappeared." Matthews peered at him. "I couldn't help overhearing what that loudmouth gangster was saying. . . ."

"With all due respect, Sir, are we here to discuss my past or this season's television series?" Baxter said coolly. "If you want to see my qualifications for this position, I would be happy to oblige on that matter. Otherwise, I don't particularly want to talk about myself."

Matthews' eyes flickered with momentary surprise. But then he smiled and nodded. "Fair enough. However, I should warn you that depending on who else overheard that conversation, there may be others who won't share my discretion."

Baxter drew a heavy sigh. "I am unfortunately aware of that. I may become tonight's six o'clock news."

"Then let's make the afternoon count before that happens, shall we?" Matthews took out a heavy binder.

"Yes," Baxter agreed. "Let's."

****

The day proceeded in a quiet manner for the Turtles. Michelangelo enjoyed the change; he spent the afternoon inventing several new pizza flavors for dinner.

"Hey," he called from the kitchen as evening approached, "it's time for the news. Let's see if there's anything about Baxter joining Channel 6."

"I'm sure there won't be, Michelangelo," Leonardo objected. "April would do her best to make sure there isn't a lot of publicity about it, since Baxter needs to keep a low profile."

"April would, but what about Vernon?" Raphael exclaimed.

Everyone hurried into the living room and gathered around the television set. Vernon was standing outside an expensive restaurant, his microphone in hand and his usual smug expression on his face.

"Tonight we have received a most shocking story," he declared. "Patrons of the Posh Pizza have reported witnessing an altercation between local mobster Pinky McFingers and struggling scientist Baxter Stockman." Pictures of the two men appeared on the screen. "Dr. Stockman admitted, after prodding from Mr. McFingers, that he was once a giant mutant fly. Could we have finally learned the identity of the evil fly that rained havoc on New York City several times in the past?"

"Oh no!" Donatello cried.

"Shockingly, Dr. Stockman was just hired today as the scientific consultant for Channel 6," Vernon intoned. "Our own April O'Neil had a great deal to do with that. Now this reporter must raise the question: why? Was it an innocent mistake? Did Dr. Stockman trick her with his wiles? Or could April possibly be willingly cavorting with the enemy?"

"Okay, Vernon has officially reached a new low," Raphael declared. "He's going to get both April and Baxter fired. Maybe worse! Burne Thompson is going to go through the roof!"

"The roof? He's gonna shoot up to Mars!" Michelangelo cried.

"We have to get down to Channel 6 right now!" Leonardo exclaimed, leaping over the back of the couch.

Raphael and Donatello ran after him.

"I'll be right there as soon as I put the pizzas in the fridge!" Michelangelo called after them.

****

It was at that same moment in the Technodrome that Krang was watching the newsfeed on his big screen. In the next moment he had raised his tiny arms and was screaming in a voice that could very likely be heard throughout the fortress. _"BARNEY!"_

Barney Stockman certainly heard from his laboratory. He set his tools aside and came out, frowning in confusion. "What's happened?" he asked. Normally Krang ignored him and just let him tinker in the laboratory all day. Occasionally Krang checked in to see what he was inventing and seemed interested, or at least curious. Barney had started to have the feeling that Krang mainly kept him around to annoy Shredder, now that Shredder wasn't so keen on his presence. But he still wanted to stay on, since he had all the resources he needed.

"Look." Krang pointed with one tentacle at the screen and Vernon's report. "Your brother is alive."

Barney folded his arms. "Well, he wasn't after I hit him," he said without skipping a beat. It helped his performance that he had always known the other shoe would drop sooner or later. He just hoped he could still keep his lie from being discovered. His heart was beating faster with his hopefully concealed anxiety.

"What's going on?" Shredder boomed. "Baxter is alive?" He placed a hand on the doorway.

"Yes!" Krang fumed.

"And to think, you were the one who previously wasn't concerned if the Turtles found a way to revive him," Shredder commented.

"I'm not concerned," Krang grumped. "I'm just wondering how it happened."

"Well, the only way any of us will find that out is to go there and ask them," Barney sniffed. "If they'd tell."

"Then you and Shredder will go to the surface and find out," Krang instructed. "It could be something useful to us, depending on how it works."

Shredder scowled. "Honestly, I don't really care how that pathetic worm is still alive. It sounds like he's got big trouble already. I'd like to sit back and see how that plays out."

"Then do that," Krang snapped. "But find out why he's alive while you're doing it!"

"They probably took him to a hospital and the doctors there revived him," Barney said boredly. "That's no mystery; they're able to do that quite often if they have the person soon enough."

"If that's all it is, I still want to know," Krang said.

"If it's not and it really is something the Turtles did, you're not thinking of taking it and reviving the dead to use as your personal army, are you?" Shredder frowned.

"Shredder, you are positively ghoulish," Krang retorted. "But I won't deny that having the power of life as well as death would certainly make us unstoppable, wouldn't it?"

"It would, but I'm not looking to be Dr. Frankenstein," Shredder grumbled. "Let's just go up there and get this over with." He headed for the transport.

Barney trailed after him. _Well, so you're in trouble again, Brother,_ he thought darkly. _It had just better not involve me any more than it already does._

****

When the Turtles arrived at Channel 6 and hurried up to the right floor, it immediately felt like all the walls and the floor were vibrating.

"Burne must be in top form tonight," Raphael said sarcastically.

Vernon and Irma were standing in the lobby near Irma's desk. While Irma was shifting nervously and looked worried, Vernon was helping himself to water from the cooler and looked pleased.

"April's really done it this time," he crowed to the Turtles. "And you probably put her up to hiring your creepy-crawly little friend, didn't you?"

"No way, Dude," Michelangelo retorted. "She came up with the idea all on her own, because Baxter's trying to turn over a new leaf and she wanted to help him!"

"She's helped herself right out of her job," Vernon sneered. "I remember that horrible fly. He kept abducting me instead of April! And he and his computer tried to take over the entire building! Mr. Thompson won't stand for him working here."

Irma spun around to look at him. "Oh, can it, Vernon!" Her eyes sparked with a rare fire. "Even if April gets fired, it's not like it'll go better for you. You know you can't take the dangerous assignments. If you're the best Mr. Thompson has, he'll hire April back no matter how angry he is with her!"

Vernon stiffened. "Well, I never!" he humphed. He threw the empty cup in the wastebasket. "You just wait and see, Miss Langinstein. Channel 6 will have a new star reporter by tomorrow and I will do an outstanding job!" He stormed off, but soon tripped over a cord stretching across the corridor and fell flat on the floor.

"Yeah, I can see that," Irma muttered.

Raphael smirked. "Like they say, pride goeth before a fall."

Vernon scrambled up, muttering unintelligible things under his breath as he fled the scene.

Leonardo looked to Irma. "Can we go in Burne's office? We really didn't come up with the idea to hire Baxter, but we provided input. And in any case, we might be able to help defend both Baxter and April."

"Like Burne would ever listen to us," Michelangelo frowned. "He like, totally hates our guts, Leonardo."

"We have to try something," Leonardo insisted.

Irma sighed. "Sorry, guys. I'm afraid you'd only make things worse. Mr. Thompson would say that you're mutants standing up for a former mutant and that's no real assurance of anything."

"But Baxter was our enemy," Leonardo said. "The fact that we're worried about him now should show that he's changed."

"Not to Mr. Thompson," Irma said. "He's probably going to kick them out any minute now."

That prediction proved true when the building shook again and Burne screamed, _"OUT! OUT! GET OUT, BOTH OF YOU! GO, GO, GO!"_

The door practically flew open as April and Baxter stumbled into the hallway. Both looked completely frazzled and defeated.

"April!" Irma cried, hurrying over to her friend.

"Wow, you guys look awful," Michelangelo said in concern. "He was really giving it to you, huh?"

"You could say that," April sighed, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "Basically, he was furious that I brought in someone right under his nose who once tried to take over the Channel 6 building. Trying to explain that he was cross-fused with a fly and out of his mind at the time didn't help at all. He said Dr. Stockman no doubt belonged in an asylum."

"I knew this was an impossible idea!" Baxter exclaimed. "I never should have agreed to try it. Now your attempt at showing kindness to me has been your ruination, Miss O'Neil!"

"I'll be okay, Dr. Stockman," April said with a weak smile. "If Mr. Thompson doesn't calm down, I'll just get a job at another news station."

"Not if Burne blacklists you," Leonardo worried. "And what was he going to do about Baxter?"

"You mean like call an asylum to come get him?" Donatello looked concerned as well.

"I don't think he was going to do anything," April said. "I think he figured getting rid of us was good enough."

The phone rang in Burne's office and he grabbed it, all but bellowing. "Hello?!"

"Well . . ." Donatello sighed. "Maybe we'd all better leave for now. Nothing's going to change as long as he's so mad."

"We could all go back to the Lair and I'll cook those pizzas I was making," Michelangelo offered.

"Thanks, Michelangelo, but I'm not very hungry." April straightened. "I'm angry. Dr. Stockman deserves a chance instead of just being fired! If Burne wasn't so bull-headed about anything to do with mutants, maybe I could have told him the whole story in the first place!"

Baxter sighed wearily and shook his head. "I never should have let you lie," he said. "Even though it was for a kind purpose, lying to your employer doesn't go over well."

Suddenly Burne appeared in the doorway. Instead of a storm cloud, his eyes were wide and he looked excited. "Good, you haven't left yet!" he exclaimed. "That was Derrick Matthews on the phone. He told me about the conversation you had with him over lunch. He loved your ideas and he implemented one of them for the live episode of Strange Science that aired tonight. The ratings went through the roof!" He gestured wildly.

Baxter tiredly raised an eyebrow. "And that means what, exactly, for us?"

"You're hired again!" Burne declared. "I'd be an idiot to let you go!"

"Miss O'Neil as well?" Baxter said pointedly.

"Of course!" Burne said. "April's my star reporter."

"Oh really." April crossed her arms. "That isn't what you said in there, Mr. Thompson. You said Vernon could take any of my stories and do them better."

"I was angry!" Burne said dismissively. "You know how Vernon is. Scared of his own shadow! I could never get him to do the kind of stuff that you jump headfirst into!"

"Well . . ." April hesitated. Then, her eyes glimmering, she said, "I'm willing to come back, Mr. Thompson, but only on one condition."

"A bigger office? Vernon gets fired? Irma becomes your permanent assistant? You name it!"

"He's feeling generous," Raphael said in an undertone.

"I want to try to rectify at least some of the damage Vernon caused with his report tonight," April said. "Dr. Stockman is trying to live a normal, upright life. He won't be able to if people are afraid of him everywhere he goes because of Vernon's story."

Baxter looked to her in amazed surprise. "But he only told the truth," he said. "How could you hope to change what he said?"

"What I'd like to do is the editorial I first started thinking of when I knew you were human again," April said. "I'd like to tell the world the full story, including how you were being murdered when the accident in the disintegration chamber happened and that you weren't a regular mutant, but literally part-human, part-fly from the resulting cross-fusion. But only with your permission."

"I . . . I don't know," Baxter stammered. "I'd have to think about it. I don't want to come off looking like a victim. I know I always thought of myself as such when I was under the fly's influence, but I never should have been working for Shredder in the first place."

"The angle of the story wouldn't be to paint you as a victim," April said. "It would be that you were someone who wasn't well, someone who made bad choices in your life, and now you're trying to be a better person and make up for any hurt you caused. It could be very encouraging for a lot of people who are trying to turn their lives around and think there's no hope for them."

"It would be so much publicity," Baxter hedged.

"You want to be better known, don't you, Baxter dude?" Michelangelo said.

"For my inventions," Baxter shot back. "Not really for my mistakes." Then, deciding he really had to say what was worrying him the most, he went on, "And what about Barney?"

"Unfortunately, Krang probably saw Vernon's report," Raphael said. "He probably already knows you're alive."

"Then Barney could be in danger right now!" Baxter exclaimed. "And if there's any chance that Krang didn't see the report and doesn't know, how could I go on the news again and risk Barney's life by giving Krang a second opportunity to see that I'm alive?"

"That's a good point," Leonardo said.

April still looked surprised. "Would you rather just leave things as they are then?" she asked.

Baxter sighed. "Until I know what's happened on the Technodrome and if Barney's alright, I can't make any other decision. I'm sorry, Miss O'Neil. I know you'd like to have your big editorial, and maybe under other circumstances I would give it to you, but I won't deliberately blunder into something that could harm my brother."

April slowly smiled. "I hope Barney is changing how he feels about you," she said in all sincerity. "If he isn't, he should be. He's lucky to have you for a brother."

"So everything's settled then?" Burne interrupted. "You're both back on salary?"

"We are," April nodded. "I'll do the news later tonight."

"And I'll look over some scripts Mr. Matthews gave me," Baxter said. He paused. "Thank you, Sir. I know you didn't want me here, and I can't blame you considering what I did in the past, but I am not at all what I was then. I promise I'll prove it."

"You couldn't be what you were," Burne agreed. "A fly couldn't make intelligent decisions about television shows or anything else. You're all human now."

Michelangelo relaxed and grinned. "Bodacious! Happy endings all around!" He looked to the others. "So how about we go home and have a late dinner?"

"Works for me," said Raphael.

"See you guys," Leonardo waved.

"Good luck," Donatello added.

"We'll see you soon," April promised.

Baxter nodded. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot."

"Hey, what are friends for, Dude?" Michelangelo said easily. He waved as he headed for the elevator. "Catch you later!"

Baxter watched him and the other Turtles leave. "I have quite a few friends now," he mused quietly to himself. He had never thought he would have that. Even if he had to deal with fear from strangers on the street, or with Blodgett's continuing suspicions, that didn't seem so bad when he considered that he was no longer alone.

****

The Turtles were just leaving the building and crossing to the Turtle Van when the ground shook and a transport module came up from below.

"Oh no!" Michelangelo exclaimed. "It looks like they heard the report, alright."

Leonardo drew his katanas and positioned himself in front of the entrance. "They'll have to go through us if they want to get to Baxter."

The door opened and Shredder emerged, looking like he'd rather be doing anything else. Barney trailed after him, his outward manner bespeaking none of his feelings.

"What do you want, Shredder?" Raphael asked.

"We heard a very interesting report in the Technodrome," Shredder said. "It seems that idiot Baxter is still alive. How?"

"Doesn't Krang know anything about modern medical technology?" Raphael said dryly.

"I just used something similar to the defibrillators hospitals use," Donatello said. "I have portable ones in the Turtle Van." Wanting to get rid of their nemesis as soon as possible, he opened the Van and looked around for something that resembled the paddles. "Right here." Hopefully Shredder wouldn't ask for a demonstration.

Shredder looked satisfied. "So that was all? No amazing machine to conquer death?"

"Nothing can do that all the time," Donatello said quietly. "But modern medical technology is pretty amazing and has saved a lot of lives. Baxter is just lucky his was one of them."

"But he was still really bad off for a while," Michelangelo added. His eyes narrowed as he looked to Barney, who still hadn't reacted to anything. Hoping to prompt a response, he continued, "He didn't wake up for a long time."

Barney folded his arms. "He seems to be fine now. No trace of brain damage, I trust."

"No thanks to you," Raphael couldn't refrain from saying.

"What about this trouble he's gotten into tonight?" Shredder asked, finally sounding a little more interested. "Is that going to be far-reaching for him?"

"We don't know yet," Leonardo said. "It sure could be."

Donatello nodded. "A lot of people in town are still prejudiced against mutants, as I'm sure you know, Shredder."

Shredder sneered behind his mask. "Then I wish him many unhappy days ahead." He turned, striding back to the module.

Barney lingered. "How did he get on the news anyway?" he hissed in frustration. "He could get me killed as well as himself!"

Raphael's lip curled. "Well, he sure didn't do it on purpose. You know, he was really worried about you because of that very thing. He wouldn't even let April do a follow-up story to clear the air about him because he thought it might hurt you. It's sure nice to see that you were worried about him too."

Barney looked taken aback. Annoyed, Michelangelo said, "You just don't get it, do you, Dude?" With that he headed for the Turtle Van, fed up with the whole situation. The other Turtles soon followed.

Sighing to himself, Barney trudged back to the module. _I did it again, didn't I?_ he thought dejectedly. _I knew Baxter wouldn't do anything on purpose that could hurt me, but I was still upset and more concerned about myself than him. And is it true what they said, that he was in a coma for some time because I hit him? I should have asked about that instead of . . ._

"Barney!" Shredder boomed. "Let's go!"

Glowering at him, Barney hurried over the rest of the way.

"You seem depressed," Shredder noted. "Are you regretting trying to kill your brother after all?"

"No," Barney snapped. "Of course not."

"Then maybe you just regret that he didn't stay dead," Shredder sneered.

"Maybe," Barney said noncommittally.

The module door slammed shut.

****

The Turtles piled into the Van with varying unhappy emotions.

"Can you believe that guy?" Raphael said in aggravation.

"Seriously, Dude," Michelangelo frowned. "I made up that story because I thought maybe he'd act a little worried if I did. He couldn't have cared less, and it wasn't just because he was putting on an act for Shredder's benefit!"

"Well, we know he must care about Baxter or he wouldn't have lied to Krang," Leonardo said. "Master Splinter would probably say he's one of those people who has trouble showing his real emotions."

"I don't know, Leonardo," Donatello said as he started the engine. "He sure didn't have any trouble showing his emotions when he chased Baxter through the Technodrome swinging a crowbar."

"You said it." Raphael leaned back and folded his arms. "As far as I'm concerned, he's not even worth protecting."

"I think the real question is, do we tell Baxter what happened?" Leonardo wondered.

"That's not the kind of news you want to give a guy," Michelangelo said.

"He'll be wondering and worrying whether Krang saw the report," Leonardo reminded. "I don't see how we can not tell him something."

"Well, maybe leave out the details about Barney, if we can," Donatello said.

"No way," Raphael objected. "He deserves to know what kind of a rat his brother is."

Michelangelo sighed and leaned back. "Let's go home for now and decide tomorrow what to tell him."

"That's a good idea." Donatello pulled away from the curb. ". . . Except for the fact that Baxter and April will probably notice the molten lava pits and realize they came up here."

"We could wait until they call about that, at least," Leonardo said.

"Yeah," Michelangelo said. "We can all use a good pizza dinner."

No one disagreed.  
****  
It was later that night when the Turtle-Comm rang, just as they had all expected it would. "Hi, Baxter," Leonardo greeted when he opened his and saw Baxter on the other end.

"What happened outside the Channel 6 building?!" Baxter exclaimed. "Miss O'Neil and I saw the proof that a transport module came up and then went back down!"

Leonardo sighed. "Well, they heard the report," he said slowly. "Shredder and Barney came up to see how you're alive. Donatello told them he brought you back with something in the Turtle Van that's like defibrillators. Shredder accepted that and they left."

"That was all?" Baxter looked disbelieving. "Shredder didn't want to cause trouble for me?"

"He hoped you were already going to have a lot of trouble," Leonardo said.

"I suppose that makes sense," Baxter said slowly. Snapping more to attention again, he demanded, "So Barney was alright?"

"There wasn't any indication that Shredder was angry with him," Leonardo said. "I really think he believed our story."

"He had better have accepted it." Baxter looked weary but hopeful. "Thank you for talking to him."

"No problem," Leonardo said. "Does it look like things are going to work out for you at Channel 6?"

"I think so," Baxter said. "I'll talk to you later."

"Goodbye." Leonardo closed the Turtle-Comm and leaned back into the couch. "I wonder if I did the right thing."

"I don't see what good it would have done to have told Baxter about Barney's behavior," Donatello said. "Especially over the Turtle-Comm instead of in person."

"I still say he should know," Raphael frowned.

"I still think waiting until tomorrow is a good idea," Michelangelo said. "He needs to get some sleep tonight, and so do we. If we are gonna tell him, let's do it when we can think about how to say it best."

"Hey, there's no good way to say 'Hey, Baxter, your brother is a jerk,'" Raphael retorted.

"What is the problem, my students?"

Everyone looked up as Splinter approached.

"Master Splinter, we're not sure what to do about Baxter and Barney," Leonardo sighed. "We ran into Barney tonight and he just acted like he didn't care about Baxter, even when Shredder wasn't in earshot."

"And we don't know whether to tell Baxter or not," Michelangelo added.

"Hmm. That is a complicated issue." Splinter sat on the couch. "But perhaps Barney would not show his true feelings to all of you."

"I know he probably wouldn't," Leonardo conceded. "But apparently he isn't in the habit of showing them to Baxter, either, judging from how they've never got along. Do you think we should tell Baxter everything that happened or not, Sensei?"

"I do not know," Splinter admitted. "If it would not serve any purpose except to make Dr. Stockman feel worse, perhaps it should not be said. On the other hand, he does have a right to know of his brother's actions."

"Okay, how about this?" Raphael spoke up. "We'll tell him if he asks. If he doesn't, then no."

"Maybe." Leonardo still looked hesitant. "I think we should take Michelangelo's suggestion and go to bed instead of deciding anything."

"I think that is very wise," Splinter said. "Perhaps the morning will bring a different outlook." He paused. "Just remember that Barney did put his life in danger by lying to Krang, so whatever else he says must be examined with that always in mind."

Leonardo nodded. "That's kind of how I feel," he said.

Splinter looked pleased. "Personally, I do believe Barney cares for his brother very much or he could not have made himself do such a thing. I would hesitate to tell Baxter anything that might make him doubt that love, especially when he has only started to believe in it recently."

Leonardo felt much more at peace as he got up from the couch. "I'm sure we'll all keep that in mind, Master Splinter. Thank you."

The other Turtles followed suit and with Leonardo, they bade Splinter Goodnight. They were all deep in thought as they headed to their respective bedrooms.

****

Baxter arrived at work the next morning around the same time Mr. Blodgett did. "Good morning," Baxter said warily.

"Morning," said Blodgett. He hesitated. "I uh . . . saw the news last night. . . ."

"So did all of Manhattan, I'm sure," Baxter grunted.

Emboldened, Blodgett asked, "Is it true, what they said? About you having been a m-mutant, I mean."

"Does it matter if it is?" Baxter countered.

"No, I guess not," Blodgett said slowly. "But . . . were you really that fly that kept causing trouble?"

Now Baxter hesitated. ". . . Yes. And I'm not proud of it."

Instead of acknowledging that, Blodgett pressed on. "But you're human now, so . . . is it like with that Bugman guy and you can change back and forth?"

Baxter recoiled at the thought. "No!" he exclaimed. It was still his fear that maybe it could happen, but as far as he knew, he was just imagining things up that were not possible. The retro-mutagen ray gun had been supposed to fix the problem permanently.

"Oh. I was just wondering," Blodgett said hurriedly. "I didn't know being a mutant could ever be reversed."

"That's because you're not a scientist," Baxter retorted. Then, realizing that sounded haughty, he sighed and added, "But it isn't easy to reverse."

"I'm sure it couldn't be," Blodgett said. "If you don't m-mind my asking, how did you do it?"

"It's a long story," Baxter said. "I used something called a retro-mutagen ray gun."

"Gee." Blodgett pondered on that. "I guess if there were a lot of those around, all the mutants could be changed back."

"Yes, they could," Baxter agreed. "But not all of them want that, especially the Turtles."

"Yeah, they wouldn't want to go back to being regular turtles after being . . . well, what they are now," Blodgett said. "But the humans that got turned into animals or other things . . . they'd all want it, wouldn't they?"

"I can't speak for them," Baxter said. "But I can't imagine they wouldn't." After a hesitation, he said, "You don't seem as hostile today."

"I still don't know what to think of you," Blodgett said. "I don't like you. But I remember that fly really seemed crazy. You don't seem like that now. And you're also different than when you stole that helmet from me. And I trust Miss April's judgment, so I figure that maybe I should give you a chance."

"That's very open-minded of you," Baxter said.

By now they had traveled through the parking garage and into the building. As they did, someone leaving the reception desk turned to look. "Hey, you're that fly guy," a man frowned. "I can't believe they're really letting you work here."

Baxter flinched. "Then you'll have to take it up with Burne Thompson."

The man grunted and walked out.

"I guess you're going to have to deal with a lot of that now," Blodgett observed.

"It's the consequences of my past actions," Baxter said. "I wouldn't expect much else."

"Well, if you really are different now, I hope you'll be able to make a good life for yourself," Blodgett said.

Baxter paused. "I hope that as well," he said in some surprise. "I believe I have a good chance of that."

"Even in spite of the people that hate mutants?"

"Even in spite of that." But Baxter fell silent as they headed for the elevators. He had the feeling that Leonardo hadn't told him the full truth about last night. And if anything was being kept back, it might very well be about his brother. Barney had let him go on their last meeting, but Baxter had to wonder whether they would ever really be reunited. For that matter, had they ever been united at all? They had never gotten along. Was there much chance that they ever would?

Maybe Barney never would give up working for Shredder and Krang. Baxter had already tried to prepare himself for that possibility. But at least if that proved true, he hoped that Barney would still remain a silent ally. And even if the Stockman brothers remained largely divided, Baxter had his friends. It was strange to think that he felt closer to four mutant turtles, a mutant rat, and a news reporter than he did to his biological family, particularly since they had all been his enemies in the past. But his life had never been normal, and at least now most of the abnormalities were positive. That was something he couldn't have said at any other point in his life.


End file.
